When my mind change, my children changed. But only I can change my mind.

Speaking of parenting, last Friday’s open telecall was very precious. It struck me deeply when one of the inquirers did The Work on her six year old child.

It seems like it’s one thing to judge our neighbor, our mother, our father, our sister or brother.

But our children? 

I shouldn’t be so upset! I shouldn’t lose my temper! I should be a good role model! I created this monster so it must be my fault my kid is acting like this!

I remember long ago age 14 when I babysat frequently. I loved the family–they had two girls.

I was the oldest in a family of four siblings, used to care-taking. I pulled out the crafty things I had used with my mom, art, drawing, and playing games. It was usually super fun.

Except one night the youngest, after putting her in her crib, kept crying.

She cried. And cried. And cried.

I’d go into her dark room, pick her up out of her crib, and hold her and say “there, there”. She’d kind of stop, and then the minute I lay her down again, wail.

After what seemed like an hour, I found myself sitting outside the hallway, the bedroom door closed between me and the child, holding my ears with frustration, feeling choked up and ready to scream and cry all at once.

This must be me! I’m such a loser I can’t even stop a baby from crying! She should SHUT UP!!

Fortunately, the toddler finally DID stop, falling fast asleep.

I then went downstairs to the basement (with one ear open, always, for another cry) and turned on the television to wait until the parents came home.

I forced myself to stay awake, too nervous about falling asleep if anything happened or either of the daughters needed me or started to…..cry. 

Crying is terrible, remember?

Crying is a sign of great distress. No one should ever cry in my presence. I need to help anyone who’s crying.

No. Crying. Ever. (Clenched fists).

Who might I have been at the time, without my story? Or later with a friend when he had an outburst in a movie theater? Or with my dad when he had an exceptionally rare moment of crying in my presence? Or with my husband when he cried at the performance we attended?

I would have been so much more relaxed. So much less braced for this crying thing coming at me, like it was the worst ever.

So much kinder to myself, to the crier, to the moment as it was–a moment containing human crying. The way of it.

Turning the thought around: Crying is fine (even good). Judging is OK. Being upset with a baby for crying is normal, and I can relax. There is nothing wrong with me, or with crying. 

Could these be just as true, or truer?

Could crying be a natural part of reality? I notice it is.

Turning my thoughts around again about crying: My thinking is crying, my thoughts about crying are “sad”, my own crying is normal and good and natural. 

Could this be just as true, or truer, about “crying”–this thing I seemed to be so against from a young age?

What I see is, my children brought me great gifts of showing me emotions and feelings, circumstances and situations I felt opposed to, against. These situations revealed attitudes I noticed were alive before my kids even came into this world.

My beliefs about what was “good” and “bad”, “spoiled” or “selfless”, “kind” or “mean”.

Who would you be, if you were looking at your children AND YOURSELF, with fresh, new, loving eyes?

Join me if you’d like to spend more time in this adventure.

Judge your children, your own parents, the other parents who are doing it wrong, and yourself (often the “worst” culprit of all).

It sounds crazy, but it’s the most exciting way into the fire of parenting transformation I’ve ever known.

It changes everything for the better. Let’s do The Work!

May 8 – June 26, Parenting Telecourse. I like to call it the parenting path to enlightenment.

Sounds lofty, but it’s true: Question your beliefs, change your experience of parenting.

There are two ways to witness your child: one is in peace, one is not. Either way, the child is doing what she does….When my mind changed, my children changed. ~ Byron Katie

Much love,

Grace